


And Solitude My Guide

by Morning_Glory



Series: Trope Bingo Prompt Fills [8]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Forbidden Fruit, Gen, I Don't Even Know, Kinda Dark, Secrets, Trope Bingo Round 2, Unhealthy Relationships, Weirdness, mentions of injury and abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-11
Updated: 2013-08-11
Packaged: 2017-12-23 03:39:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/921547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morning_Glory/pseuds/Morning_Glory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time she sees him is luck.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And Solitude My Guide

**Author's Note:**

> So this is dark, and kinda weird. Not really sure I want to know what part of my brain came up with this one, but I kinda let it do what it wanted.  
> To be safe I'm going to give a warning here that this story does involve a background abusive situation. Nothing too graphically described but, your mileage may vary.

The first time she sees him is luck.

She's there when they bring him in, bloody, beaten, and glaring death at everyone who crosses his path. None of the guards notice her pressed against the wall, hugging the folders she carries to her chest so tightly they crease. No one notices her ever; not in this place. She is invisible to them, not important or dangerous enough to merit any attention. Which may be why she stops breathing, freezing in place like a deer caught in the headlights when that deadly focus shifts to her.

Her heart pounds erratically as his gaze pins her to the wall, like a needle through a bug. His guards push him onward without sparing a passing glance at her. Once they are gone she stays where she is for a few minutes while she calms down. Finally settled, she continues on with her assigned task, to deliver the folder of their progress to Agent Sitwell's assistant. 

If her thoughts keep drifting back to the prisoner with the metal arm, well, she'll chalk it up to curiosity, plain and simple.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The second time she sees him is chance. 

It is months after the first time, long after his injuries have healed. His hair is shorter, but still too long by S.H.I.E.L.D standards. He seems comfortable now, both with himself and in these halls.

Jane has sent her up with the latest reports and she happens to pass him walking in the hallway with, of all people, Captain America in all his spangly glory. She clutches her folders tighter against her and lowers her eyes, willing herself to become invisible. Even after all this time she hasn't been able to forget about him. The thought of being on the receiving end of that stare again makes her nervous. And yet...

They pass by each other with no acknowledgement at all, but she can feel that laser stare following her as she walks away. Her heart pounds and she resists the urge to look over her shoulder until she reaches the end of the hall. As she turns the corner she looks up briefly and catches him staring. Their eyes meet. Her breath catches at the intensity of the look. 

Captain America calling back the man's attention is what allows her to continue moving. She scurries away, heart pounding and cursing herself for letting him get to her. It is weeks before their paths will cross again. 

She thinks about him often.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The third time, she goes looking for him. 

_The_ _Winter Soldier_. In the weeks since she saw him last, rumours of his skills have made it down to the labs where she spends most of her time and she lets curiosity get the better of her. She sneaks away, breaking into the empty observation room that overlooks the Avengers' private gym. It’s a room most people in the building don't even know exists; level six clearance and above. She discovered it one day when she was bored and wanted to test her skills against the S.H.I.E.L.D computers. She thought they might come for her. They never even realized she'd been there.

She hovers at the edge of the window and watches him sparring with one of his teammates. He moves with a lethal grace that fascinates her. She can't tear her eyes away as he takes down his opponent with deadly accuracy, stripping off layers as he works up a sweat. She bites her lip and fights to contain a whimper as he ends up shirtless, all gleaming metal and hard muscle flexing smoothly beneath glistening skin. He laughs at something the large blonde, who can only be - _holy shit-_ Captain America _out of his uniform_ , says and she has to look away from the sight.

This _thing_ , this unhealthy fixation she has, it's gotten out of control. With her eyes closed she doesn't notice the moment his sniper-trained eyes spot her in the window. When she looks again he is tugging on his shirt again and she flees quickly back to the labs. She doesn't notice him stepping into the hallway just in time to see her leaving, or the Captain who unintentionally keeps him from following.

That night the dreams about him start.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The fourth time is an accident; one she wishes she could forget. 

It has been three months, and she is making yet another delivery when she turns a corner to see him locking lips with the Black Widow, raw and intense. She pulls back before either of them notice her and leans against the wall with her eyes closed, the image burned into her retinas. She takes a moment to steady herself before seeking an alternate route, but when she opens her eyes he's there. She squeaks in shock; tries to move away. He grabs her upper arms and slams her against the wall, _hard_. It is the first time she's heard his voice, the first time he's _touched_ her, and, despite the circumstances, she is hit with a wave of inappropriate lust. 

He demands answers. Wants to know why she's following him. _Spying_ on him. He shakes her when she doesn't answer, can only stare at him and breathe raggedly. She winces as he tightens his hands, hissing at the small pain as he unknowingly hits a half-healed bruise already there, hidden beneath her bulky sweater.

He frowns and shifts back slightly, loosening his grip but not letting go completely. His eyes flick between his hands on her arms and studying her face. His frown deepens. He starts to say something when a voice shouts from down the hall. He glances away and that is all she needs. In that second of distraction she moves, shoving against him with all the force she can muster and running as fast as she can. He calls after her, but she doesn't stop and he doesn't follow. 

She spends the next hour locked in a stall in the ladies room, shaking and crying silently; berating herself for falling this hard for someone who is so, so very off-limits for so many reasons.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The fifth time she sees him, he spots her first.

He happens upon her in the halls unexpectedly a few months after their last run-in and follows, curiosity peaked. He's asked around about her and no one seems to know who she is. He watches her drop off a folder that is collected with no acknowledgement of her and keeps following as she walks away as if she's used to such dismissive treatment. She keeps her head down, eyes focus on the floor and completely silent as she skirts around other people with no small amount of skill. She pauses at the end of the empty hallway that leads to the gym and that's where he corners her.

“Looking for me?” She startles, spinning around to find him so close behind her. She takes a step back and he matches it with one forward. Another, and another, until he has her crowded against the wall. He stares at her in silence and she stares back wide-eyed and barely breathing. “I think I've finally figured you out, little mouse." His palms land flat on the wall on either side of her, boxing her in without ever touching her. 

Despite the somewhat predatory overtones, nothing in his actions has been _overtly_ threatening. He left her space. She could have turned away at any time, knows, somehow, that he would have let her. But she also knows who he is now, the things he's done, what he's capable of, and trembles at having him hover so close. It should scare her just how _little_ of her reaction to him is due to fear. He leans in slow, his intent clear, and leaves her plenty of time to pull away if she chooses. She doesn't.

It starts as a brush of lips, barely there, almost teasing. She doesn't pull away. He backs off, far enough to look at her eyes, and whatever he sees there makes him lean in to kiss her again. It is harder this time but still careful, far more gentle than she ever would have expected him capable of, given his reputation. She responds, pushes it further by tracing his bottom lip with the tip of her tongue. He groans low in his throat, shifting forward to eliminate any space between them. His right hand is warm against her, scorching her with their first skin to skin contact, as he moves it from the wall to tilt her face to a better angle to comfortably deepen the kiss. His sudden withdrawal leaves her gasping, confused to see him frowning as he looks at her. It isn’t until he slides his thumb across her cheek and it comes away wet that she realizes she's crying. 

“What is it? What’s wrong?” His voice is low and full of concern, his expression shifting to alarm when she chokes on a sob. She closes her eyes briefly, unable to keep looking at him while trying to calm herself. When she finally opens them, she seeks out his eyes for the first time. She is still crying. He pales and backs away from her, horrified, at her first words to him.

“W-would you k-kill me if I asked you to?” She stumbles slightly over the whispered words.

“God, no. Why would you... _What the hell is wrong with you_?” She flinches as if he has slapped her. His shock at her request overrides his senses for those crucial seconds it takes for her to bolt past him, breath hitching with a sob. He shakes himself out of his shock and chases after her, calling for her to wait. He doesn’t even know her name. 

She hears him catching up when she is held up at one of the security doors. She struggles with her pass, eventually swiping it and pushing through. She slams the door shut behind her and leans against it, palms flat against the cool metal frame. She’s panting, eyes blurry with tears, but looks up sharply when a movement catches her attention. She sees him on the other side of the glass, watching her. He doesn’t take his eyes off her as he digs through his pockets for his own pass. She backs away, eyes locked on him. His lips are moving, he’s talking to her, telling her to wait, even if the sound doesn’t penetrate the seal. The last thing she sees is him dragging his pass out of his pocket before she turns and runs. 

He yells and slams his hand to the door in frustration as she disappears around a corner. She moves surprisingly fast. He attempts to follow is quickly lost in the maze of the labs. He starts poking his head into rooms, but doesn’t see her. He eventually gives up, retreating to regroup and try again another day. He is determined to find her.

She knows her way through this maze better than most and makes it back to her lab quickly. The way she tears through the doors makes Jane look up from her work with a frown. Seeing the state she’s in, the doctor breaks away from her work to check on her friend. Darcy drops to the floor behind the desk, hidden from view of the windows. She mumbles an excuse that Jane only half believes but doesn’t push when asked to let it go. They sit together on the floor, side by side, until Darcy calms enough to distract Jane back into work. Jane is still concerned, but allows herself to be distracted as Darcy’s words give her a new idea.

When Darcy closes her eyes, she can still feel the ghost of his lips on hers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s months before Bucky sees her again. There have been glimpses, but every time he tried to get closer something would come up and she would disappear. And it’s not for lack of trying. He’s gone through the databases as much as his clearance allows, asked around the labs, making discreet enquiries and found nothing. He knows as much about her now as he did then, which is nothing. No one knows her; only vague recollections of seeing her around. It’s as if she’s invisible, a ghost wandering the halls, haunting him. He doesn’t truly see her again until the day Thor returns.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Foster Bridge Project is finally ready to launch. Bucky is there with the rest of the team, suited up in case something goes wrong and what comes through isn’t friendly. He catches sight of his mystery girl huddled in a corner, away from the main action, monitoring something on one of the computers. She is pale and there is something off about her. Something that makes him worry. He breaks ranks and starts heading towards her, ignoring his teammates calling to him, when the machines flare to life. There is a bright flash and suddenly there are five more people in the room with them. 

Bucky goes on high alert, ready to attack these strangers at the first sign of trouble, but the rest of the team seems glad to see them and he relaxes slightly. Dr. Foster launches herself at the man Bucky recognizes from the files to be Thor and he holds her close, eyes scanning the room while his friends hover protectively around him. Thor distractedly accepts the handshake from Dr. Selvig, still looking around the room.

“Where is she? Where’s Darcy?” His voice is a loud rumble, tight with urgency. Both doctors stare at him in confusion while everyone else glances at each other, lost. One of his companions spots who they are looking for, calling out as he points to her. Bucky knows who they’re talking about before he turns. He finally has her name. _Darcy_. Thor breaks away from the group and pushes his way through the gathered crowd to get to her.

She freezes, just as she had the first time Bucky saw her, seeming to shrink in on herself at the attention and the low murmur that travels through the room. Thor stops just in front of her, looking worried as he leans down to say something to her no one else can hear. She crumbles at his words, burying her face against his armour as the tears start to fall. He doesn’t hesitate, gently gathering her close as he whispers more words, then swings her up into his arms. The crowd parts for him as he carries her back to where the doctors still wait. 

“I need a room, somewhere private, and a healer.” Bucky feels the spark of worry from earlier come back in full force. He breaks into a run when Dr. Foster cries out, noticing blood leaking from Darcy’s mouth. Thor curses, lowering her gently to the floor, ignoring the alarm of everyone around him. Bucky reaches them, dropping to the ground beside them as Thor gives up trying to remove her sweater the proper way and rips it open like wet tissue paper. There are many horrified gasps from the onlookers as they see the damage revealed, bruises upon bruises, ribs that are clearly broken. This close Bucky can hear the wet sounds she makes as she struggles to breathe. “The stone.” Thor demands without looking away from Darcy. He leans down, smoothing her hair away from her face and murmuring quiet words of comfort to her until a small bag is handed to him by his grim looking friend. 

As Thor prepares, Darcy’s eyes drift around, finally noticing Bucky at her side. He takes her hand when she reaches out for him and shushes her gently when she tries to talk, blood foaming past her lips. He keeps his eyes locked on Darcy as Thor crushes the small stone and sprinkles the dust over her. Bucky can’t help the gasp as he watches the damage begin to right itself, ribs snapping back into place and bruises fading before his eyes. Darcy makes a strangled choking sound and rolls suddenly onto her hands and knees and coughing up a puddle of blood onto the floor. 

“You’ll be okay, little lightning sister,” Thor keeps one hand on her back, his voice low and comforting. “He’ll never touch you again, I promise.” The medics finally show up and, after asking her permission, Thor lifts her onto stretcher. Bucky is torn between staying with her and helping Thor with what he clearly intends to do next. Darcy reaches for his hand again and his choice is made. She passes out moments later. Another of Thor’s group, the large red-haired one, volunteers to watch over her as well. As they are leaving, Thor’s voice echoes through the large room demanding they bring a Dr. Smithson forward to face punishment for his actions. Bucky doesn’t see what happens from there, willing to let the larger man take care of it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He sits with Darcy until she wakes. She is facing away from him and sees the Asgardian, who he now knows is called Volstagg, first. She seems so genuinely happy to see him. Bucky listens as they talk, learning many things about her before she notices his presence. She is surprised to see him there. Volstagg tactfully steps in when the silence grows between them and asks the most important question, why Darcy never told anyone what was happening. 

“It was worth it,” she whispers, after explaining that without Smithson’s contributions they would have lost months, if not years, on the project. “Jane needs Thor. The Avengers need him. Midgard needs him. We couldn’t wait that long.” It is painful to listen to her justify her actions, her choices, as for the greater good. It isn’t long after that when Volstagg leaves to tell Thor of what he’s learned. 

“I’m sorry,” Darcy’s voice is soft as she apologizes to him. She must see the confusion in his face because she continues before he can ask why. She never should have asked him what she did, never should have fallen for him, they could never work. At least, that is what he can pick out of the sudden rush of babbling; more words than he’s heard her say in all their other meetings combined. He shushes her again, gently.

“Fuck what anyone else says about it. I’ve only just found you. I’m not letting you disappear on me again, Darcy.” Bucky holds his hand out to her and waits patiently for her to take it.


End file.
